It all began a couple weeks ago when Molly started Meltdown talk. Meltdown, you ask? Well, the Meltdown is a YWCA “six-week weight management and fitness competition. Teams of two compete against other teams and earn points for exercise, keeping a food log, body composition changes, clinic attendance and special bonus points.” Molly participated in the Meltdown last year and totally kicked flub ass. By the end of Meltdown 2010, she was svelte like a jungle cat and looked Minneapolis summer appropriate (uber hot). Looking to get back in shape after this winter’s harsh and extended stay, Molly knew she wanted to commit to another Meltdown. And who better to melt down with her, as a partner and fellow flabby, than me?! I, the queen of chins, fried foods, and “I don’t feel like working out,” agreed to get off the couch and on to the Meltdown bandwagon. Toot, toot.
We’d like to invite friends, family, and curious minds to follow us on our six-week journey to fitness victory. Stay tuned for vintage fatty photos, hurdles, tricks and tactics, cooking experiments of tasty/healthy recipes, fitness activities, and hilarious anecdotes along the way. At the end of six weeks, we will reveal our full transformations with before and after body composition results and photos.
If you’d like more information about Meltdown rules and how to earn points, please visit the YWCA website. The Meltdown officially starts tomorrow, April 4th and ends on May 15th.
Commence rehab for flabblies! The Meltdown this year couldn’t come at a better time. I, like everyone else, spent much of the winter sitting indoors, eating cookies and hardy stews and figuring out what to watch next on Hulu. A few weeks ago, I took the ultimate chub’s vacation to Morris, MN, my hometown, (god bless it) for a week to lounge around and indulge during the final week of winter. With a freezer well-stocked with ice cream, and a fridge well-stocked with beer, I was in for more indulgence than I was prepared for. Also, I was amongst company who found elastic-waisted pants socially acceptable to wear out to dinner (and that, of course, always means Don’s, a greasy spoon Morris classic). I returned to Minneapolis (after a mere week, mind you!) with a healthy, plumpy double chin. I carry that chin with me today, friends, but Chinny and I prepare to part ways.
The double chin has been a foundation of Ellen’s and my friendship for over six years now. We’ve taken countless photos together purposely accentuating our neck chub; partially for comedic purposes, partially for fatty solidarity. We even used to have photo contests where we would each try to take three of the ugliest photos of our faces and compare to see whose was the worst. Chins always contributed to a victory. We have been known to be bad influences on each other at times. Candy bar pancakes: enough said.
But now, it’s like a movie! We can use our evil powers of influence for good! We want to win the challenge. We want to win so hard. I want Ellen and I to cause at least three minor bicycle accidents because drivers are so transfixed and distracted by the radiant heat we exude as we walk down the street that they are incapable of un-gluing their eyes from us. As long as no one is seriously hurt… unless they are charming, handsome men who we can nurse back to health. Oops. Now I’m starting to give away the plot outline of my first harlequin novel.
Anyway, believe in the power of the Meltdown.
Hearts & farts, friends.